


Privilege for the very man

by lisaong



Series: Translated works [3]
Category: DCU
Genre: Identity Porn, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisaong/pseuds/lisaong
Summary: While trying to solve a Justice League financial crisis, Superman may have accidentally stuck an underhanded deal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Privilege for the very man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788590) by [LemonSeal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonSeal/pseuds/LemonSeal). 



> just a forewarning, I'm going to be slow as a sloth.

Clark had no idea how things ended up like this. Bruce Wayne was already asleep when he came out of the bathroom so Clark had turned off the bedroom light, leaving only the soft yellow glow of the bedside lamp on Wayne’s face. He looked so tired like this, long lashes casting shadows over bruised eyelids, so fragile while asleep.

It made Clark slightly regret what happened an hour before. He’d fucked Wayne like he’d been possessed for more than half the night and they’d only met twice before.

Wayne was only an ordinary human being: handsome, covered in scars, but so appealing. It reminded Clark of someone else from Gotham, but he dismissed the idea after a few seconds, finding it absurd to compare Gotham’s playboy with her guardian.

Although…

Well, it wasn’t like Batman had no relation to Clark’s current situation. The events that catalyzed this whole sequence started when Batman cut off all communication with the Justice League in order to undertake a secret mission. 

Batman claimed to only be a part time member of the Justice League, but he was responsible for solving the financial problems that came along with saving the world. He took care of things that the other superheroes simply couldn’t do. Now that he wasn’t there, those things were causing problems. Put simply, during a battle against robots sent by the combined forces of Star Sapphire Corp, Gorilla Grod and Lex Luthor just last week, Superman, Green Lantern and the Flash broke the fountain in the town square and decimated several water treatment facilities along with a variety of other buildings including an animal shelter in Metropolis. Thanks to the media, the entire Earth knew about this.

Rebuilding the destruction caused by superheroes and supervillains was no small task. The citizens needed space for public activities and clean drinking water. Workers needed offices; homeless animals needed shelters.

In the end, the original League members decided to let Superman go find someone who would be able to help them with the financial problems; someone rumoured to be linked to Batman, who’d built a space station for him.

So, Superman flew to Gotham to find Bruce Wayne.

They met in suite of a five star hotel and Wayne didn’t even know he would meet Superman at that time. He was being entangled by a mutant plant, entire body covered in creeping green vines, completely unconscious. It took some effort in order to not harm Wayne as Superman removed the plant and contained Poison Ivy with his heat vision and freeze breath. Amidst her furious protests, he dropped her off at Arkham Asylum. 

He’d returned to the suite with every intention to send Wayne to the hospital but was caught off guard. Clark wasn’t sure if all Gothamites were so quick, but when Wayne lunged at him, stark naked, Clark could not refuse.

Bruce Wayne’s mouth had to have magical power.

In the past three to four hours, Clark didn’t mention the League’s financial problems at all; there were more demanding things his mouth was attending to. The salty taste of Wayne’s tears, the feel of his soft skin and bunching muscle still lingered on Clark’s lips.

He put his uniform back on nervously, Mach 4 speed doing nothing to help with the skintight clothing. His actions weren’t particularly quiet, but Wayne didn’t stir, not even after Clark knocked over a vase. It eased the shame in him a little, but it would be even more difficult now for Clark to tell Wayne that he’d originally come for his assets.

Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, Superman’s communicator buzzed right at that moment. Mxyzptlk was causing trouble at the Asylum. He needed to go help immediately.

Battling people of the 5th dimension was a nightmare; by the time Superman finally tricked Mxyzptlk into saying his own name, it was already dawn. When Clark pulled off the moustache on his face and flew back towards Gotham, Wayne was already awake.

He knew he was walking straight towards a loaded gun, but he had no way out.

Wayne was leaning comfortably on some pillows, blue eyes icy. The wound on his mouth hindered his speech a little bit, but did nothing to dampen the Gotham cynicism. 

Wayne watched the terrified expression on Superman’s face as he slowly sipped a cup of black tea, then spoke quietly, crude words a jarring contrast to the elegant tone that delivered them, “You fucked me half to death then left; why are you suddenly concerned with my well-being?” 

Clark couldn’t say anything to defend himself.

Half an hour later, holding a check signed personally by Bruce Wayne, he was floating above Metropolis in a daze. Absently he wondered if he’d been possessed by Starro, but the calligraphic script on the slip of paper in his hands and the lingering scent of Bruce’s aftershave told him this wasn’t an illusion.

It wasn’t until Superman cashed the check that he suddenly realized he may have a serious problem of principle-

Did that whole situation count as an underhanded deal?

In retrospect, Clark then made the dumbest decision of this entire series of events: he went to Batman to find countermeasures for the situation.

Originally, after Superman had nervously cashed the check and watched the citizens of Metropolis enjoy their newly rebuilt city, he’d thought that this event would be a singular occurrence.

Instead, only half a month later, the same scenario occurred. This time though, Batman eyed the helpless expression on Superman’s face coldly and told him to fix his own mess. Clark decided he would spend his month’s salary buying a couple tons of coal. Just as he was placing an order on the Internet, his phone rang with an unfamiliar number. 

The soft Gotham accent in the earpiece made Clark recall the images of soft light cast over a sleepy Bruce, followed quickly by images of his misty eyes and tears in the throes of climax. Clark was ashamed of his dirty thoughts, but his body reacted enthusiastically.

On the other side of the phone call, Bruce Wayne tossed him an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

Superman argued with himself for a long time after the call ended but eventually still headed towards the Watchtower’s monitor bay to ask Batman for his opinion.

“Refuse him.”

Batman’s reply was extremely direct.

Maybe it was due to a combination of guilt and shame, but Clark thought he picked out an undercurrent of irritation in his longtime companion’s voice. It was clear that there had always been something between Batman and Bruce Wayne. While the exact nature of the relationship couldn’t be identified, the tone was unmistakably fond. On the other hand, Clark had also never heard Batman speak of a significant other though Catwoman and several other femme fatales often appeared alongside him. In the same way, Bruce Wayne was featured in every tabloid with some sensual beauty or another, whether blond, ginger or… well, Clark supposed he’d need to add handsome, blue-eyed brunette male to the list now. 

Bruce had also set their appointment in the exact same place that first meeting occurred and Clark had no clear idea on what his motivations for doing so might be.

There was no mutated plant or masked criminal this time, just the suite’s elegant decor and one Bruce Wayne in lingerie. The moment Bruce’s fingers hooked the collar of his uniform and the man reached up to kiss him, Clark forgot everything Batman said.

The rumours surrounding Bruce Wayne were right about one thing; sex with him was an experience not even the Kryptonian language had words for. After being satiated, Clark watched over Bruce for the entire night and had the pleasure of seeing him blinking awake in the first rays of dawn sunlight. Even the simple act of Bruce frowning at the sun had Clark’s heart aching fondly. The floaty sensation lasted until Superman was out the window of the top floor and above the clouds, second check in hand. Up in the air, surrounded by strengthening sunlight, Superman shivered suddenly as a thought occurred to him.

No matter what kind of person his other half was, Clark Kent had always hoped he’d have a sustained, healthy romance, not whatever this was. This quasi state of on call sex, like he was some sort of human shaped dildo. He didn’t even know if Bruce had other partners (he had investigated the matter and still had no conclusive answer).

Instinctively he knew that Batman would know, but the vigilante fell into the list of Bruce’s possible partners and Clark himself didn’t know if he wanted the answer to that particular question.

He wasn't even sure how he was going to face Batman tonight. How was he going to tell the other hero that not only had he heard the advice and forgotten it the moment Bruce Wayne touched him, he may have also wronged the other even farther?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's slower than a sloth because i bring shame to the sloths at this rate.
> 
> also, i'm trying something new with translating. i've seen other translators post little notes at the end of their translations explaining certain sayings that are difficult to translate so i'm going to try that since there's a lot that gets lost when i try to make the English less clunky to read.
> 
> would you all like the notes at the end?
> 
> thank you for all the kudos and support!

Superman zoomed into the Watchtower’s control room in a red blue whirlwind, “Batman, I have to talk to you about Bruce Wayne.”

“No.” Batman replied.

Already expecting such an answer, Superman plowed on, twirling the chair so that Batman was facing him, “Please, you’re the only one aware of the situation between me and him. I can’t just discuss this with someone else in the Justice League.”

Batman raised his head, gritting his teeth in anger. Superman took a few steps back in self interest, away from the black claws that appeared to be itching to spear him. The Dark Knight stood up and advanced on him, “You’re supposed to be in the hangar right now getting ready to leave the Milky Way with Green Lantern and J’onn in fifteen minutes, not here every time reporting the latest details of what you and Wayne did in bed. 

“I didn’t come here to talk about that this time,” Superman protested in embarrassment, “It’s just this voyage will be longer than those in the past; I wanted to ask that you watch over Bruce Wayne.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that the safest option is to immediately end your relationship with Wayne?” Batman asked coldly, clearly irritated with Superman’s request. He’d been against Superman’s messy relationship with that Gothamite from the beginning, but that never stopped Superman from sharing his emotional experiences with him.

“Please? As a favor for a friend? You probably already know, but Bruce recently angered Gotham’s underbelly and people are planning to kidnap him in exchange for Wayne Enterprises’ corporate secrets. I know you won’t simply watch the innocent be hurt but I don’t want to see more injuries added onto Bruce’s already scarred body.”

Superman had discussed Bruce Wayne with Batman once already. The man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth (1) but tended to injure himself. The latter was due to his inclination towards dangerous sports like car racing and skiing, likely a lasting consequence from his tragic childhood. In addition, Clark has witnessed Bruce risking himself to help people at accident scenes. If it came down to a critical moment, Bruce may not always put his own safety first. So yes, Superman asking Batman to keep an eye on Bruce had selfish intentions, but it wasn’t without cause.

“Don’t you think you’re overprotective of Bruce Wayne? The public can accept rumours of you and a female reporter but once you get involved with the source of all bad gossip in Gotham, you’ll lose support. Do you not care about your reputation?”

“You and I both know we don’t do this for fame.”

Batman let out a silent sigh, reassuring metahumans in love was no easy task. On top of that, he had no control over whether or not Bruce Wayne would be injured by Gotham’s dark underbelly. Eventually, under Superman’s steady gaze, Batman returned to his seat and, fingertips tapping against his armrest, gave an answer.

“I will protect my city, you don’t need to worry (2).”

Superman gave his thanks with a smile then left. He still had ten minutes, enough time to say a farewell.  
**** **** ****

“You saw the news.”

It was Batman who spoke first when Superman walked into the control room, spinning the chair around to face him as he approached. His statue still body mirrored his flat tone, “Then, how is your Mr. Wayne?”

“Still in the hospital with a mild concussion, he’ll go home after another couple days of observation.” Superman replied. He’d just come from visiting Bruce and the distinct scent of the hospital lingered on his cape.

“So you’re here to confront me?” Batman asked cynically, arms folded across his chest.

“No,” Superman replied warmly, “I wanted to thank you.”

“Even if I was ‘careless’ and let Wayne get hurt?”

“I trust you, Batman,” Superman’s tone became even warmer, “Also, you should be resting in the medical bay. I will take over your shifts for the week.”

“How did you…” Batman frowned, this was one downside of having a super-powered friend. He’d warned Superman not to use his X ray vision on him many times, especially to check up on his injuries without permission.

“Diana told me. Do you really think everyone in the Justice League will just watch a teammate get injured and not do anything? Particularly since that injured teammate refused to take time to recuperate afterwards.” Superman admonished. In order to make more of a statement, he’d floated up a few inches to look down at Batman.

After a few seconds, Batman gave up on the staring contest and stood up to walk out of the control room. The speed of his steps disturbed his cape, leaving behind the smell of disinfectant.

“Dr. Mid Nite is waiting in the medical bay for you to do a second exam.” Superman called to Batman’s retreating back. He smiled at the answering sound of gritting teeth and went to finish what Batman had been working on.  
**** **** ****

Bruce laid listlessly on the bed, half read documents scattered in front of him. When he saw Superman open the window and enter the room, his eyes sparkled for a brief moment but was quickly covered by his usual flippant smile.

“Isn’t this the hero who triumphed outside the Milky Way, Metropolis’ Man of Tomorrow? What wind blows you over to lowly Gotham?”

Superman placed a bouquet of flowers next to Bruce’s bed. The sunset cast a lazy golden red light that burned the entire sky, making him look brilliant in front of the transparent glass window.

He really looks like a god, Bruce thought and for a moment, he was stunned to silence (3).

“I came to see you.” Superman said, pulling a chair over to the bedside and leaning over to inspect Bruce’s bandaged wounds. Even Bruce could guess that the irritating Kryptonian was using his superpowers to inspect him so he changed tack, playing pitiful.

“My injuries are all thanks to that Batman. Next time, can’t I have Wonder Woman as a bodyguard? Ol’ Bats can’t dress up in an evening gown like her and dance with me.”

“No.”

Clark flat-out refused and before Bruce could complain any farther, occupied his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The original '天之骄子' doesn't quite match up with 'born with a silver spoon'. '天之骄子' is more someone is spoiled by Heaven/fortune. In my understanding, Superman is saying here that Bruce seems to have found favor in a lot of things except personal safety since he's covered with old injuries.
> 
> 2\. The actual phrase used here is '用不着你多心' which is a more abrasive way to say 'don't worry'. It is used a lot when brushing someone else's concerns off.
> 
> 3\. So this entire part gave me trouble. The loose literal translation is 'the fangs he was so proud of suddenly stopped working'. Going by context, I assumed it was referring to whatever retort/tease/barbed comment Bruce had ready.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter seemed to let itself become english rather nicely? i won't be adding notes at the end.
> 
> maybe i'm just sleep deprived at this point though.

The Justice League had its share of setbacks but established itself well and quickly outgrew its need for external financial assistance. Just the patent for the development of clean energy alone generated enough annual income to maintain the Watchtower in orbit for ten years. Still, Clark maintained a relatively stable relationship with Bruce - he refused to use "friends with benefits" to describe them - and in the time they spent together, came to a silent understanding that neither wanted to be the one to end it.

Sometimes they did nothing but cuddle on the bed, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. No one else in the universe had ever been simultaneously so close to Clark, yet so far away.

What two things in this world could make Superman lose his powers? One answer was kryptonite, the other was Bruce Wayne’s smile. As Clark watched Bruce fall asleep, noting the exhaustion in the other’s face, he recalled the night their lives first intersected. Even now, after a hundred nights together, this scene stayed the same, too wonderful for words.

Even a body of steel was useless against some things.

Long before Clark decided to become Superman, he was a teenager struggling with his awakening powers. Unable to control his super senses, he spent night after night unable to sleep, relying on listening to the sleep-talk of countless people to pass time. Even using Clark's experience as a reference, Bruce's sleep quality was terrible. Perhaps it would be a strange thought; a billionaire, nicknamed “the man who has everything”, unable to rest properly but the answer wasn’t hard to find. Thanks to the internet, this information wasn’t exclusive to Gotham natives and journalists, all it took was the name Bruce Wayne and a search engine. The site's automatic association feature would inevitably include the tragedy of the Wayne couple.

Unfortunately, the fame of this tragedy created its own tragedy. Even years later, the morbid enthusiasm of third-rate writers and malicious users online had not decreased, so much so that different versions of rumors appeared. Among them were speculations that the Wayne family was part of Gotham’s dark underbelly, that the Wayne couple had faked their deaths and Thomas Wayne was still alive somewhere, dealing firearms and selling drugs. Or that the Wayne family's wealth stemmed from swindling business partners and the evidence could still be found in Arkham Asylum. The list went on. 

Clark knew that the vicious rumors didn’t affect Bruce because the man had never left the real nightmare. Even more than twenty years after the tragedy, Bruce still dreamt of his parents and the shadowy midnight alleys. Even Clark himself, in the time it took for the last vestiges of his consciousness to fall into darkness, could hazily glimpse one angle of the nightmare. 

Bruce Wayne’s glamorous appearance hid a man wrapped in mystery.

Many times, when Superman passed through Gotham City performing his duties, he would subconsciously search for a familiar heartbeat but fail to locate it. The next day, only super senses could detect the tiredness in Bruce when he appeared in public claiming responsibility for the commotion caused in the bars or banquets the night before. Clark knew the smell of indulgence, and other than his own, the scents of anyone else had long ceased to appear on Bruce’s body.

When Clark woke up from sleep, he was alone in the top floor luxury suite. The space next to him was still warm from the body that’d occupied it previously. As usual, Bruce had left without a word, leaving Superman to pick up the scattered pieces of his uniform with a sense of frustrated disappointment. He left through one of the open floor-to-ceiling windows and, under the lit Bat Signal, flew towards Metropolis across the bay.

The arrival of dawn signaled the end of Batman’s night patrol just as Clark Kent’s day as a Daily Planet reporter began.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it me, i've crawled out of the sewers briefly.
> 
> thank you so much for the continuing kudos ;w;

Clark hurried back to his apartment and worked on the draft of his article right up until the last moment. He made it to work just in time. Today was just another day that Clark, a regular office worker holding coffee bought from a convenience store, tiptoed through the narrow passages of the newspaper office. He squeezed into his tiny cubicle and stared idly at the screen as his computer started up. Just as his thoughts turned to whatever fling it was between him and Bruce, Perry White’s roar suddenly rang out from the editor-in-chief’s office. 

"Kent! Pack up and get over here!"

"But the draft for my ball game article hasn't been given to you yet..." Clark looked around helplessly and only received sympathetic looks in return. His best ally, Lois, the only one able to withstand their chief’s explosive temper, just happened to be on a business trip overseas, leaving him alone to face the storm.

"Don't worry about some goddamn soccer game! We need to get to the train station! Now!"

Startled, Clark quickly grabbed his bag and frantically shoved his notebook and recorder in. In his hurry, he knocked over his coffee, spilling hot brown liquid everywhere on the desk. It spread to his keyboard, which gave one last protest before dying in a hiss of smoke. Clark gave it a sympathetic look; he’d been fond of that keyboard, having joined the company with it. Right now though, his own safety was also at risk and he couldn’t give out the same way a wet keyboard could. So, he gathered up his courage, knocked on the editor’s office door and waited for instructions.

Perry slammed the door open as he put his cellphone in the pocket of his suit vest. Clark noticed right away that his workaholic boss, who’d never cared for his appearance, was wearing a brand new suit. There was even a tie knotted neatly around his neck.

Seeing the severe look in the editor’s eyes, Clark quickly lifted his phone: "I called a taxi. It’ll be here soon."

Unexpectedly, after Perry stared at Clark for a few seconds, his tone eased uncharacteristically and he waved his hand for Clark to go back.

“Actually, cancel it. We don’t have to go to the station.” 

Clark was stunned. Would someone please tell him what just happened that caused such a mood change in his editor?

Fortunately, the newspaper office was never short of well-informed people. Clark had just returned to his seat when his other good friend, Jimmy, poked his head out from the neighboring cubicle and greeted him happily.

"Clark! You came at such a bad time; if you’d come a minute earlier, you could have seen the look on the chief’s face when he got the phone call. If I’d gotten a picture of it to submit, I might have gotten first prize at the annual photographer contest. As long as I haven't been killed by then, of course... What's the matter, Clark?"

Clark had to interrupt his friend in order to ask for clarification of the events that occurred, "Jimmy, can you tell me why Perry wanted me at the train station for? 

"God, don't you know? Bruce Wayne - the Bruce Wayne - bought the Daily Planet last week. Apparently, he was coming today to inspect his new property. But since you no longer need to go to the train station to meet him, maybe our big boss changed his mind at the last minute.”

Fortunately, he’d spilled his coffee already; otherwise, it would have made its exit in a comical spray of shock when Clark heard this sentence. After all, not everyone wakes up to find out their bedmate had become their boss.

Jimmy misread the expression on Clark's face, reaching out to give him a reassuring pat, "Even if we aren’t in the entertainment or financial sectors not even knowing that we’ve got a new boss must be upsetting (1). It’s fine, big man, look sharp. Lois is in Kabul uncovering her next big story, and we will not lose to her."

Clark was a little absent-minded during the entire workday. He wasn’t the one who was shocked by the Wayne’s sudden cancellation though, so the first half of the day passed by smoothly. It wasn’t until half an hour before he got off work that Perry called Clark into the office and told him to lock the door.

A thin file of information was slapped on the table and slid over to Clark. Clark opened the folder and immediately noticed Bruce's photo (2).

"Who would have thought that Mr. Wayne would personally ask for you to interview him after he heard Lois is not here. Best make the most of this opportunity, young man." Perry sighed; Lois was often responsible for interviewing the elite class. The bumpkin in front of him looked nothing close to ready and he added in a worried tone, "Beware, Clark, Wayne is a slick talker; prepare the interview well, don't be led by him."

An interview! Clark was so nervous he almost began to float in front of Perry's eyes. He agreed to the job faintly and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door Perry’s voice stopped him.

"Change into a decent suit, Kent," Perry ordered. "You can't enter a five-star hotel looking like that."

The evening of the same day, Clark took the pass he received and stepped into the most luxurious five-star hotel Metropolis had to offer. It also happened to be owned by Wayne Enterprises; Bruce Wayne stayed there whenever he came to Metropolis. Although he was quite familiar with the luxury suite on the top floor, this was still technically Clark’s first time visiting the place.

His interview subject was waiting for him in the meeting room.

Bruce sat comfortably on the sofa, a small coffee table in front of him. His relaxed air made him appear very approachable.

After a brief self-introduction, Clark cleared his throat and began the interview: "Mr. Wayne, what do you think of the acquisition of the Daily Planet?"

“I just thought it’d be fun to run a newspaper.” Bruce answered with a scripted line, the mask he used when talking with the media sliding into place, "The first time I came to Metropolis, my secretary asked me if I wanted anything. I thought since I came to Metropolis, I had to know about the famous Superman here, so I told her to buy a Daily Planet. The rest you know, after a couple weeks, my CFO sent me a message saying I’d bought the Daily Planet. That's it."

Surprise spread over Clark’s face as he tried to figure out how much of the answer was true from Bruce’s smile. Superman and Bruce Wayne rarely had time to talk when they met; this only made Clark more nervous when in close contact with Bruce Wayne himself. He probably looked like a rookie in every aspect.

Just as Clark was trying to recover his professionalism, Bruce seemed to catch onto how embarrassed he was and leaned closer to him: "Relax, Mr. Reporter, maybe a drink will be helpful for conversation?"

"My apologies, Mr. Wayne, but the interview is still going on..." There were alarms going off in Clark’s mind in response to Bruce’s sudden thoughtfulness, instincts telling him to distance himself. Before his body could catch up to his thoughts though, there was a blur in front of him.

Bruce had climbed over the coffee table and settled in Clark’s lap. The familiar body heat and smell had Clark settling his hands on Bruce’s waist in order to steady him instead of reaching up to protect his glasses. Before he realised what Bruce’s goal was, the other man had already messed up his hair in the process of taking his glasses.

His disguise exposed, Clark stared at the growing smile on the other’s face, pinned in place by Bruce's lazy tone.

"Mr. Superman, do you really think I’m blind as a bat, unable to even recognize my lover wearing a pair of glasses?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, a lot of metaphors in Chinese are poetic in nature and it’s so frustrating because no matter how I translate, that feeling doesn’t come through the same way in English ;~;
> 
> 1\. Context wise, “upsetting” fits the most and more or less covers all the bases. One of the direct translations of the original character is “melancholy” but that word doesn’t quite fit here. 
> 
> 2\. If you imagine the moment when the moment when the camera zooms in on someone important and everything else fades a little in the background, that’s essentially the feeling here.


	5. Chapter 5

If only he could be like the heroes in those movie spin-offs, able to erase memories with just a kiss, Clark thought in distress. He couldn’t even push Bruce away, erection caught between them. It’d come to attention when Bruce’s fingers brushed through his hair and as a result, he had no good options left (1). If he insisted that Bruce had the wrong person, he’d probably become the first reporter to be fired due to sexually harassing the boss, Clark thought in despair.

After agonising over his decision, Clark decided to confess (2).

"Yes, I am Superman."

“How did you do it, where did the reporter that was going to interview me go?” Having received confirmation, Bruce hooked his arms around Clark’s neck happily, finding and inspecting his work permit and pass, “I was almost fooled by your disguise. These documents look just like the real ones, is it the mysterious Kryptonian technology?”

Apparently even if Bruce saw through Clark’s disguise, he’d assumed it was Superman playing a prank on him by dressing up as an ordinary person. Clark could have used Bruce’s misunderstanding in his favor, but Superman did not lie.

"These documents are all real. I am the reporter here to interview you, and at the same time, I am Superman."

Hearing his answer, Bruce let go of him in surprise and stood up. He stared at Clark as if seeing him for the first time then took a few steps back and began to inspect Clark from head to toe. The young man in front of him had the same face and body as Superman, but his bearing and air were nothing like the Man of Steel. Even Bruce, who’d appeared to be confident in guessing Clark’s identity, had meant it as a joke, overtaken by the impulse to tease the reporter by taking his glasses.

Clark sat in nervous silence as Bruce’s eyes took him apart. For the first time, he understood why novels would always used the sensation of innards being twisted together to describe extreme anxiety. Who would have guessed that Superman’s true identity was a working class reporter, a son of a Kansas farmer, an ordinary person that blended into the crowd?

"So your real name is actually Clark Kent? Then what is Kal-El?"

"My adoptive parents are human beings. The human name they gave me was Clark Kent. Kal-El is my Kryptonian name and comes from my biological parents."

Superman was an alien after all. Most of the world's understanding of him came from media reports, and that information all came from Superman. Other than the fact that he’d been adopted by a human couple and worked under a human name as an ordinary person, Superman had been quite candid about his life.

For a moment, Bruce looked confused by the sudden influx of information. In the end though, he was a native of Gotham. The fact that his lover was actually an alien living as a human was no more difficult to accept than the fact that Gotham City could be attacked by mechanical penguins, giant clowns and alien invaders at any moment.

"Oh my God, I really was interviewed by Superman." Bruce whispered, rubbing his forehead.

"Otherwise?" Clark asked.

"This isn’t some kind of kink (3)?" Bruce raised his eyebrows and threw the problem back to Clark.

Clark looked helplessly at the whimsical Gothamite and asked: "What kind of sexual fantasies would involve interviewees and interviewers?"

“A handsome, melancholic enigma of a CEO and an innocent young reporter wandering the big city alone meet in an interview one day. The nervous rookie reporter loses his pen, and as he leans over to pick it up, the president sees a perky butt just to his taste," Bruce said. Seeing Clark’s blank face, he continued. “It’ll be like 'Fifty Shades of Grey.'”

Clark nodded in understanding. The novel turned movie had smashed the theaters for a time, and many people in the newspaper had talked about it. Although Lois insisted that it was a Mary Sue novel without any substance, curiosity remained high and the movie trended anyway. Like most people, Clark had the “Fifty Shades of Grey” trilogy at home so when Bruce mentioned the title, Clark did not hesitate to respond with the scene that’d left the deepest impression on him.

"So you also have a secret presidential room filled with props?"

Bruce blinked in surprise for a moment after hearing Clark’s acerbic response then smiled slyly in a way that made Clark’s cheeks go red: “Oh, Clark, you’ve really opened my eyes tonight.”

Just Bruce’s smile and the finger he hooked in Clark’s tie were enough to make Clark dizzy, especially the fact that when Bruce kissed him, he’d also called out Superman’s human name. Clark’s concerns over his identity were pushed to the back of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. So this could have been translated two ways. The literal one is “handle” which, for obvious reasons, would be very noticeable. The other one, which is used here, essentially means a weakness/information that can be used against someone. I think both translation could fit here, but I leant towards the second one being more likely.
> 
> 2\. The original text here is a metaphor meaning “to tell the truth for leniency”. Clark probably decided that biting the bullet here would have less severe consequences than trying to hide it further.
> 
> 3\. More specifically, kinky game/foreplay/roleplay.


End file.
